Orphans No More

Church of the Epiphany

6 Easter, May 26, 2019

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

 In 1995, in her book entitled Gospel Medicine, Barbara Brown Taylor wrote a sermon entitled “Family Values.” It was based upon a passage from the gospel of Luke in which Jesus is quoted as saying, “Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division!” (Luke 12:51) She claims, that given the things that Jesus said, he would never be elected president of our country. Probably not the Prime Minister of England either.

Taylor wrote that “especially during an election season, everyone is worried about family values. People blame the breakdown of the family for the growing list of our social problems. If children do not learn about honesty, hard work, responsibility, and faith from their parents, chances are that no one else would be able to teach them those things.” (end quote) When a father criticized the church for not teaching his children about these things, I challenged him. Whose responsibility was it to teach our children about family values. Parents? Faith Communities? Our society? Who? And what exactly are family values?

Some days I wonder about us. We seem to be playing a lot of the blame game. We point our fingers at who is coming and who is going, in which direction they are leading us, and whose fault it is that we are in this mess. We speak words that don’t match our actions. We file suits and countersuits in a society that seems to have become more litigious; and so we frequently turn to our court systems for judgments. Welcome to the political, civil, and religious times of Jesus. Welcome to that time in 1995 when Taylor published her book. Welcome to our troubling times right now.

The gospel medicine for today is commonly called the “Farewell Discourse.” Jesus is talking to his disciples before his own court case, and Jesus is trying to impart some family values to his disciples over their last meal together. “Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them,” Jesus said. “Yes, I will be going away, and yet I will also be coming again.” In the meantime, we’ll send you some help; so you need not worry. Indeed, you even should be happy.

I have a hard time with ‘goodbyes.’ Parting is not sweet sorrow for me, especially when people that I love die, or move, become a bishop in another diocese, or disconnect from me for one reason or another. At a very basic level, I feel abandoned and struggle with feelings of anger and sadness. And yet Jesus peacefully tells his family of disciples not to be afraid, not to let their hearts be troubled. In today’s jargon, Jesus said to them, “No worries. I’ve got this!”

I just finished reading an historical novel called The Orphan Sisters, by Shirley Dickson. In 1929 four-year-old Etty and eight-year-old Dorothy are abandoned at an orphanage by their mother, who had promised them that she would return. She doesn’t, and so the sisters are heartbroken by her desertion. Learning that the orphanage was responsible for them until age 15, the sisters promised never to abandon each other. As adults living during a time of world war, they also endured multiple losses.

Parents leave their children for many and various reasons, oftentimes with good intentions, and yet the effects can be devastating. Children have been abandoned at the borders of our country, and in their own countries, because of extreme poverty, political unrest, civil wars, various kinds of illness, legal battles, and addictions. Throughout our world there are orphanages overflowing with children who will not know the loving touch of a parent or hear comforting words when their hearts are troubled. Thank you for your ministry to the children in Honduras, where children are held in loving hands, learn new skills and family values, and can find peace and freedom from a life on the streets!

The disciples of Jesus felt abandoned by the death of their leader and feared for their own lives. Like some immigrants today, they huddled together in a locked room, waiting for the authorities to knock on their door and haul them away. But when it was evening on that day, on Easter Sunday, Jesus came through the door and stood among them. “Peace be with you,” he said. Then, after breathing his spirit on them, he showed them the scars on his hands and in his side.

Peace never comes with the absence of conflict; actually it can escalate when we try to avoid it. Indeed peace often comes only after our hearts have been troubled and our minds have darkened with fear. Anger is a messenger that hides a deep sadness of loss. Today, on this Memorial Day weekend, we remember those who fought and died for our freedom, defending the lives of others, and protecting our basic human rights. Peace is fragile; and so the peace that passes all understanding will come to us through the Holy Spirit, who gives to us, not as the world gives, but only as God can give.

“No worries,” said Jesus. “We’ve got this.” At that last supper, at the dinner table with his disciples, Jesus told them, “In the days to come, you will have an Advocate, a defense lawyer, who will be your Helper, and a Comforter.” After I am gone, “We will send our Holy Spirit to be with you, who will fight for you and also forgive you, because I know that you will also betray, abandon, and deny me.” I know that troubled times will remain, that peace is fragile, and you will need some help.

The Holy Spirit shows us the way of love and teaches us some family values. Through a spirit of truth, we are carried far away to a high mountain, where we can see the “holy city of Jerusalem coming down out of heaven” and where peace finally reigns. In Christ, we are told that we become a new creation, where trees bear 12 kinds of fruit, and leaves are for the healing of the nations. “For we did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear,” said St. Paul in his letter to the Romans; “but we have received a spirit of adoption.” In this heavenly city, we are all children of God, worshipping as one beloved community, with God as the head of our family tree, and that tree is the Tree of Life.

I am the grandmother of fraternal twin boys, prematurely born at 25 weeks old. Peter and Nathaniel currently live in the newborn intensive care unit in a Minneapolis hospital, where our daughter is one of their parents and a NICU doctor. The boys have had minor surgeries, antibiotics, immunizations, and endured many transitions. They are learning to breathe on their own. They are learning to eat. They are learning to live.

Born at two pounds and one pound thirteen ounces, they’re both five pounds strong today. As a family, we are deeply grateful for their continued health and growth, and for the modern medicine in our country. We are grateful for laws that protect them, and the privileges that we have in our country. We are grateful for our family and friends, and faithful people throughout our world, who have prayed daily for that heavenly Advocate, to defend them from all perils, to be their Helper, and to be their Comforter in times of distress. In the NICU, I learned about “kangaroo care” - how important loving touch is for babies, and how the recorded voices of their parents can bring them peace.

“Peace, I give to you. Peace, I leave with you,” said Jesus to his family of disciples. “God the Father will send you an Advocate, in my name, to teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you.” This Spirit of God cries out in our newborn infants and people of all ages throughout our world - people who have been abandoned on the margins, people who are living on the streets or in cities destroyed by war, and people who are hiding in locked rooms of fear. This Spirit reminds us that we are held by the loving hands of God. Today we hear the recorded voice of Jesus, who promised us that we have an Advocate, who is the defender of our cause, our helper in times of trouble, and a source of comfort in times of fear.

In the Revelation to John, nothing is cursed. God’s gates are always open. Springs of living water are clean and flowing. There is no darkness at all, only the light of God’s love, burning like a tabernacle Lamp, shining in a temple that has no walls, eternally pointing to the grace of God. This grace is freely given by the sacrificial love of God.

The 14th chapter of the gospel of John is gospel medicine. It begins and ends with God’s peace. “Do not let your hearts be troubled,” said Jesus. “Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places, and I go to prepare a place for you.” Until I come again, I will send you the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, who will give to you, not as the world gives, but as God gives.”

Just as the Father sent Jesus, now the Holy Spirit sends us; and we have some family values that Jesus taught us while he was with us. Through the Advocate He feeds us and teaches us at His Table even now.  “No worries,” said Jesus to his family of disciples. “Be happy.” You are the beloved children of God, and our God will never forsake nor abandon you. So go, speak truth to power, love others as I have loved you, and remember, “You have an Advocate, We’ve got this!”

Acts 16:9-15

Revelation 21:10, 22-22:5

John 14:23-29

Psalm 67

Voices and Visions

5 Easter, May 19, 2019

Emmanuel Church, West Roxbury, Massachusetts

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

I am not much of a media person. I prefer reading books to watching television. When I am in my car, I rarely turn on the radio. At home, I relish the sound of silence. And so I tend to be particular in my choices about what I watch and to whom I listen. Occasionally, I have enjoyed the T.V. series called The Voice when various people compete vocally to become the latest season’s winner. I also love singing hymns.

This past week I learned about a relatively new media company called Vox, which translated from Latin into English means “Voice.” According to their website, “Vox's mission is to ‘explain the news.’ It strives to make sure its readers ‘understand what just happened,’ by providing ‘contextual information that traditional news stories aren't designed to carry.’ Vox creates ‘card stacks’ in bright ‘canary yellow’ that provide context and define terms within an article.” So Vox uses words and pictures to convey their message.

Now, Peter, in the Acts of the Apostles, has a vision and hears a

Voice, not once but three times. In his daydream on the rooftop, he sees something like a sheet coming down from heaven, and sees four-footed animals, beasts of prey, reptiles, and birds of the air. He hears a Voice telling him to “Get up, kill and eat.” At first, he resists. “No,” Peter says to the Voice, “That’s not kosher. I’ve obeyed our religious laws and have never eaten anything profane or unclean. No, I can’t do this.”

Have you ever known anyone who has visions and hears voices? I have. And I know that these voices can be the Voice “of God” as well as the voice “of the devil.”  Visions and voices can be signs of mental illness, uncontrolled by medication, or they can be evidence of a spiritual world that remains unknown and untapped to us mere mortals. Visions and voices break into our world and our consciousness routinely, while we are awake in our daydreams, and while we are sleeping at night. How are we to know if they are the way, the truth, and leading to life? How are we to know if they are from God or from the devil?

In the news some people claim that they have a vision of a new world order. Indeed, many of our political leaders promise to create social and economic systems that will benefit more people. Many voices tell you how you can live longer if you only eat this and avoid that. In Mongolia two people recently died of a plague after they ate a rodent’s raw organs, believing that it was “very good for their health.”

We hear stories of people who follow certain religious leaders, and have been told to get up and kill. These are terrorists who murder others through their sacrificial “acts of love” in the name of God. Some believe they will be rewarded in heaven for obeying this voice, and have visions of heavenly bliss. How are we to know if the voices and visions we hear or have been taught are the way, the truth, and leading to life?

 In the Boston Globe this week, Robert Pape wrote, “The immense power of social media has many advantages for civil society.” For instance, social media warned others about the man named “Sovereign” who recently killed one person and injured another on the Appalachian Trail. Social media is intended to be a vehicle for connecting people throughout our world, spreading news quickly to others who seek life-giving relationships and greater knowledge. “At the same time,” Pape wrote, “it provides opportunities for individuals to go beyond disseminating hateful messages to broadcasting murderous acts in real-time, in order to glorify themselves and inspire future terrorists.” We all know about “copy cat” violence, don’t we?

God’s vision for us is a civil society, where we live in peaceful co-existence and communicate through voices of love that build up rather than destroy. The Revelation to John, which is the last book in our New Testament, is social media. It was written by someone who saw visions and heard voices. Writing in a secret language, during a time of persecution and terrorism, John encouraged the followers of Jesus to keep their faith. He offered people visions of hope and a future redeemed by God through the love of Jesus.

In his vision, John sees a new heaven and a new earth coming down from heaven. He sees a new Jerusalem, not torn apart by religious polarization and violent attacks, or divided by walls and checkpoints. Rather it is a new city, built on a hill, which is united by love, and prepared like a bride adorned for her husband. "See, I am making all things new,” the Voice from heaven proclaims. "Write this, for these words are trustworthy and true,” he said to John. “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give water from the spring of life."

Like Peter, who is reporting live from Jerusalem in the Act of the Apostles, John hears a loud voice from heaven saying, “"See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them as their God; and they will be his people. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away." Today, we call this a vision of heaven, and we call this the voice of Jesus. Today, we call this the way, the truth, and resurrection life.

Discernment of the spirits is complicated. We will hear voices that whisper in our ears that we are no good, that we are not loved, and we are not worthy. Voices of guilt will remind us that “if only” we had done this, if only we had said that, then our loved ones would not have died, or this terrible thing would not have happened. If we had kept our eyes and ears open, we would not have been betrayed, our media would not have been hacked, and we would not have been harmed. We hear threats of war, and we despair that our world will come to a violent end, and we begin to believe that death is our final act.

So there Jesus was in that upper room, a vision that we all have from our gospel stories. We see him sitting there at his last supper, knowing that Judas will betray him, and that he is about to be crucified. And yet, speaking in a voice of triumph and victory, Jesus claims that the Son of Man has been glorified, and that God has been glorified in him. In both his life and in his death, Jesus glorified God, not for himself, but for us. “I give you a new commandment,” the voice of Jesus said. “Love others as I have loved you.”

The vision and the voice of Jesus is all about love, which you and I both know is complicated. Although the message is simple, it is not easy. Jesus met Judas’ betrayal with acceptance and then forgiveness. “Do what you have to do,” Jesus said, knowing that God would be glorified in the end. God’s vision of a crucified king became our Christian rallying cry and an icon for generations to come. Justice and mercy have kissed on the cross, like a bride and groom on their wedding day. “Death will be no more” that Voice proclaimed from heaven; for God’s mission in Jesus had been accomplished. And today, we celebrate Easter joy.

 God makes God’s home among us even now. Since God has given us the gift of God’s Holy Spirit, then “who are we to hinder the works of God?” We are the Episcopal Branch of the Jesus Movement, claims our Presiding Bishop, and people will know that we are Christians by our love. “If it’s not about love, then it’s not about God,” our Presiding Bishop frequently reminds us.

We can hinder the work of God’s Spirit with our own denial, resistance, and silence. Or we can keep it alive with voices raised in protest against injustice, hate, and violence. We can keep the Spirit alive with voices raised in songs of praise, words that offer the peace of Christ, and by simple and small acts of sacrificial love.

The visions that we see and the voices that we hear in scripture show us both the realities of our human lives and the dream of God for our future. All people, all creation, and all creatures great and small, will be redeemed, and the garden of Eden will be restored. Unified, we shall no longer fight with one another. Sick and tired of being sick and tired, we shall be healthy and whole. God will wipe away every tear from our eyes, and put an end to all pain, mourning and grief. Adorned with white robes, washed in the blood of the Lamb, we will be saved by the grace of our life-giving, liberating, and loving God. In perfect harmony, our voices will sing together, “In Christ there is no east or west, in Him no south or north, but one great fellowship of love throughout the whole wide earth.”

We have God’s Vision for our future. May we always listen to God’s Voice; for this is the Way of Love that will lead us to eternal Life.

Acts 11:1-18

Revelation 21:1-6

John 13:31-35

Psalm 148

Fear and Love

Emmanuel Church, Wakefield, Massachusetts

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

4 Easter, May 12, 2019

            I have to confess that I am a coward, a nervous ninny, someone who was once called, “Little Miss Much Afraid.” Lori Gottleib, in her new book entitled, Maybe You Should Talk to Someone, claims that all of our decisions, indeed every decision that we make, is based upon two things: fear and love. (3503) For example, I choose where I walk, and what paths I take, when I am alone at night. Fear. I choose to hop on a plane to Minnesota first thing in the morning, no matter the cost, when I learn that my daughter has given birth to premature twin boys. Love.

            There are some very good reasons to be afraid these days. Violence repeatedly erupts in our country and throughout the world. Once again this week in a high school in Colorado, there was gun violence. Our children went to Sandy Hook School many years ago and so we are well acquainted with this kind of grief. Last month, while the news reported a shooting in a synagogue in California, our Presiding Bishop preached about the Way of Love during a Big Tent revival on the Boston Common. We all make decisions, large and small, each and every day of our lives. Love preaches Life, and fear kills it.

            Of course, violence isn’t limited to guns in schools and synagogues. In Christ Church, New Zealand, a bomb exploded in a mosque, while bombs went off in Christian churches in Sri Lanka on Easter morning. Afterwards bishops cautioned their priests to make wise decisions about whether or not to hold worship services, at least until things settled down in their country. Love protects life. Fear kills it.

As members of a beloved community of diverse people created by God, we come from all languages, tribes, nations, and people; and oftentimes our decisions are an odd mix of both fear and love. As a privileged, older white woman, living in a safe neighborhood like Wakefield, I shouldn’t have much to fear; and yet fear is real at all ages and stages of life. When my daughter delivered her twin boys at 25 weeks, I feared that Peter and Nathaniel would never know the beauty of life and the love of their parents. I fear that they are entering into a more violent world with people who fuel hate and exploit divisions. In my fear, I pray fervently that the God of all Creation will save us and sustain us, most especially those I love.

            Here we are smack-dab in the middle of celebrating Resurrection life, and yet we’re still surrounded by death. In the Acts of the Apostles Tabitha has died and the widows are weeping. Often used at funerals, psalm 23 reminds us that we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, and today Jesus talks about body snatchers and those who are perishing. Finally, Revelation mentions people who have come through a great ordeal and had their robes washed white in the blood of the Lamb.

Irvin Yalom names four existential fears that he calls our “ultimate concerns.” They are death, isolation, freedom, and meaninglessness. We are afraid of painful deaths, of dying alone, of losing our freedom, and believing that our lives have no meaning. And yet, Yalom writes that “our awareness of death (actually) helps us to live more fully - and with less, not more, anxiety.” (4017)

In addition to those random acts of violence, we experience death slowly: in our aging populations, with mental illness, addictions, divorces, and fears about this fragile earth our island home. We wonder about our future: How shall we live in the face of these ultimate concerns? Will we make our decisions based upon fear or upon love?

Underlying our fear and anxiety is this uncertainty about the future. Because I don’t like suspense, I often choose movies and books with happy endings. I want that blessed assurance that everything turns out alright, that the good guys win in the end. I want to see and hear that weeping may spend the night, but the wedding song of love will sound in the morning. (Hebrews 6.19) I want the joy of Easter to last forever. And the passage from Revelation tells me that it will.

“How long will you keep us in suspense?” the Jews had asked Jesus. “If you are the Messiah, then tell us plainly.” Now Jesus was in the Temple in Jerusalem for the festival of the Dedication, which is now called Hanukkah or the Festival of Lights. It is a time when Jews remember how they were saved by their leader, Judah Maccabee, during a time of Jewish political and religious oppression.

What I learned in seminary is also summarized in Wikipedia, that “great source of all knowledge.” “The history behind this holiday begins in 198 BC when the Syrian empire took over (Israel). King Antiochus III was fairly tolerant of the Jews and allowed them to continue to live according to their custom. However, in 175 BC, his son Antiochus IV ascended to the throne, massacred many Jews, outlawed Judaism, and looted the temple. Antiochus IV went so far as to erect an altar to Zeus in the temple and defile it by sacrificing pigs on it.”

            “Judah Maccabee and his followers led a revolt and were successful in recapturing the temple. Maccabee ordered it to be cleansed, a new altar to be built, and new holy vessels to be made, after which the temple was rededicated to the Lord. Pure olive oil, with the seal of the high priest, was needed for the menorah (or lampstand), which was required to burn throughout every night in the temple.”

 “Unfortunately, only one flask was found with enough oil to burn for one day. Yet when the Jews lit the menorah, it burned for eight days, when new oil could then be blessed! This miracle is remembered to honor faithful people who are willing to bravely worship God in the face of persecution.” Jesus went to Jerusalem, like Judas Maccabee and like many people today, during a time of religious and political oppression. His followers hoped that Jesus would lead a political revolt; and his opponents feared that he would. Despite those who warned Jesus to stay away, he chose to show up. Jesus made his decision to go to Jerusalem based not on fear but on love.

            While life is a blessing and a precious gift from God, at times like these, life can also seem like an ordeal. And so, we find various ways to manage the suspense of our own unfolding drama; and we have different ways of coping with our fear and anxiety. Who are those who have come out of the great ordeal, whose robes are washed white with the blood of the Lamb? Each and every one of us.

We make decisions about life every day based upon fear and love.

Fortunately we have guard rails and directional signals. Our scripture lessons remind us of our common heritage. In community, we are no longer isolated. We affirm our faith in the words of the Nicene creed, and we offer our prayers for all people. Despite our disagreements and divisions, we are blessed to live in a country that upholds our freedom of speech, and tries to protect our basic human rights. Trusting in an ever-present, all-knowing, life-giving, and liberating God, we can choose to live in the Way of Love.

When fear appears, I like to return to our salvation story in which Jesus has shown us the Way. In both the Old and New Testaments, we remember that we have a good shepherd who will lead us beside still waters and will guide us along right pathways. With generations of people who have come before us and who will live after us, we can affirm our faith in the God who creates, sustains, and saves us - even from our very selves and our poor decisions.

Repeatedly, we hear Jesus remind us, “Do not be afraid. I am with you always, even to the end of the ages.” And no one and not one thing can snatch you away from the palm of God’s hand. Yes, we know that death will eventually come for all of us, but how we choose to live today is quite another matter. We can respond with love instead of reacting with fear. Even as violence erupts all around us we can maintain our hope in the power of God and have faith in God’s promise of eternal life. We can remember our salvation story, how our robes have become white, washed in the blood of the Lamb.

Brother Curtis from SSJE recently wrote,  “The church has this turn of phrase called “resurrection power.” If there is “resurrection power,” we need to know this power not just behind us (in the past), or around us (in others), but within us, in our own lives, (even) now. You are teeming with resurrection power, and you need to claim it and unleash it as clearly as Jesus’ followers in first-century Palestine.”

Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb who has shown us the Way of Love. So go, choose love; for we know the end of our salvation story, and Love wins.

Acts 9:36-43

Revelation 7:9-17

John 10:22-30

Psalm 23